


time takes a cigarette

by karmannghiaburana



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Galaxy Garrison, M/M, Post-Canon, Shiro (Voltron)-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-17 20:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15469401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karmannghiaburana/pseuds/karmannghiaburana
Summary: The night had been so normal. An oppressively hot summer Friday that wouldn’t stand out from the rest when they looked back. Shiro had said couldn’t take another day in the Arizona heat, Keith had laughed and promised they would get an AC system installed as soon as they finished the kitchen repairs he had been working on. He and Keith had taken the hoverbike over to Matt’s apartment for dinner. Matt’s apartment was a refuge from the heat, the air conditioner was set only just above arctic temperatures. Pidge was in town the weekend, crashing in the spare room, she had greeted them warmly and spent an hour curled up with Keith on the couch, rapidly catching them both up on her experiences as an MIT student.“Keith, you know I love you,” Pidge started.“Sounds kinda straight, Pidge,” he countered.“Shut up, I’m trying to be genuine here,” she reached up with her right hand and shoved his face. “But we have got to do something about your hair, I’m not letting you get married with a mullet. Queer eye for the fellow queer.”They both laughed.“I’ll think about it,” Keith hedged. He wouldn’t, Shiro knew.





	1. it lingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night had been so normal. An oppressively hot summer Friday that wouldn’t stand out from the rest when they looked back. Shiro had said couldn’t take another day in the Arizona heat, Keith had laughed and promised they would get an AC system installed as soon as they finished the kitchen repairs he had been working on. He and Keith had taken the hoverbike over to Matt’s apartment for dinner. Matt’s apartment was a refuge from the heat, the air conditioner was set only just above arctic temperatures. Pidge was in town for the weekend, crashing in a spare room, she had greeted them warmly and spent an hour curled up with Keith on the couch, rapidly catching them both up on her experiences as an MIT student.  
> “Keith, you know I love you,” Pidge started.  
> “Sounds kinda straight, Pidge,” he countered.  
> “Shut up, I’m trying to be genuine here,” she reached up with her right hand and shoved his face. “But we have got to do something about your hair, I’m not letting you get married with a mullet. Queer eye for the fellow queer.”  
> They both laughed.  
> “I’ll think about it,” Keith hedged. He wouldn’t, Shiro knew.

Shiro hadn’t expected this outcome. Maybe his mind had conjured up the image before to taunt him but it wasn’t something he had ever planned for, he wasn’t prepared. He could feel himself slipping, like he wasn’t himself, like he stood just outside his body or his skin didn’t quite fit. He could watch the events taking place around him but he couldn't interfere. It felt like a nightmare. Maybe he was trapped in a dream, maybe he was in an alternate reality. Nothing felt real. The lights too bright, the sounds simultaneously too loud and too quiet. He could hear a voice calling his name and for a moment, it was him. Keith calling his name, his voice distorted like it was coming through a water-logged speaker.  
“Shiro! Shiro!” Shiro looked down, his eyes coming into focus— he was looking at Pidge. Her eyes rimmed red, the tone echoed in angry blotches across her skin on her face. She had been crying.  
“They need you to sign some papers,” said Pidge, “the nurse is going to come back in fifteen minutes. Then I’ll drive you home, or you can come stay with me and Matt. Do you need me here or can I go call Kolivan?”  
He looked at her in confusion.  
“Shiro, you have to sign all the legal papers and decide…” She choked up for a moment, but swallowed, “You have to sign the body over to the funeral home. Do you know anything about a will? Did Keith ever mention anything?”  
It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.  
“He had it recorded in the Black Lion’s memory bank,” Shiro answered robotically.  
“Okay, okay, I’ll see what we can do,” she took a deep breath to steady herself, placing a hand on Shiro’s shoulder to anchor him as she began to move away. “I need to go call Kolivan and Krolia. I’ll bring you back some shitty hospital coffee and a bagel or something.”  
Shiro’s gaze stayed resolutely glued to the floor, “Okay.”  
“Shiro,” Pidge spoke again, a little softer, a little sadder, “I’m so, so sorry.”  
He felt like he’d swallowed a stone, he couldn’t speak with the weight of it lodged in his throat. He could barely breathe. He couldn’t decide if he was numb or felt too much. “Thank you.”  
Pidge watched him a moment, then turned down the hall, pulling out her tablet. Shiro assumed she would contact Kolivan first, he would be devastated but take the news solemnly, the war had taken nearly everything from him, what was one more? Even if he was like a son to Kolivan. Pidge would call Krolia next, and just like her son Krolia would rage, the war had taken everything from her. How dare it take another? How dare it take her son?  
It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.  
Shiro could still see Keith’s face, earlier that night, when he’d smiled as he walked out the door. It had been a quiet contented thing that wrinkled the corners of his eyes and made his mouth tilt up to one side. A smile Shiro hadn’t seen since they were much younger, since before Kerberos, and even then only fleetingly. It had recently been an almost constant presence. So much joy on his face, on Shiro’s too he was certain, they reflected it back to each other, it filled their home.  
The night had been so normal. An oppressively hot summer Friday that wouldn’t stand out from the rest when they looked back. Shiro had said he couldn’t take another day in the Arizona heat, Keith had laughed and promised they would get an AC system installed as soon as they finished the kitchen repairs he had been working on. He and Keith had taken the hoverbike over to Matt’s apartment for dinner. Matt’s apartment was a refuge from the heat, the air conditioner was set only just above arctic temperatures. Pidge was in town for the weekend, crashing in a spare room, she had greeted them warmly and spent an hour curled up with Keith on the couch, rapidly catching them both up on her experiences as an MIT student.  
“Keith, you know I love you,” Pidge started.  
“Sounds kinda straight, Pidge,” he countered.  
“Shut up, I’m trying to be genuine here,” she reached up with her right hand and shoved his face. “But we have got to do something about your hair, I’m not letting you get married with a mullet. Queer eye for the fellow queer.”  
They both laughed.  
“I’ll think about it,” Keith hedged. He wouldn’t, Shiro knew.  
Matt peaked his head in from the kitchen, “Food’s almost ready, who wants to make a beer run?”  
Keith unceremoniously dumped Pidge from his lap, “I got it, do we need anything good or can I just get PBR?”  
Shiro let out a dramatic gasp, “Babe, please? PBR?”  
Keith cackled, “Jeez, okay, I’ll find you a nice cider. So picky!”  
Keith made his way to where Shiro sat, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead before making his way to the door. He pulled on his jacket, checking his pocket for the key to the hoverbike. “Anything specific I should look for?” Keith checked before heading out the door.  
“Something cherry,” Shiro smiled, Keith gave returned his smile before closing the door and heading to the hoverbike, speeding off to the closest kwik-mart.  
The call came in on Shiro’s phone not too much later. Keith hadn’t even been gone long enough for anyone to worry. When the screen lit up Shiro had been intently talking to Pidge, debating whether the new Godzilla movie would be good. Luckily Keith wasn’t there, he would adamantly defend any monster movie, and Shiro was just beginning to convince Pidge it was not worth the price of the ticket. Matt had answered the phone for him. It felt like everything unravelled after that.  
After devoting years to defeating the Galra Empire, taking down each monarch individually, going after every general who had gained power during the war, after drafting the first constitution for an alliance of intergalactic powers, after placing their lives on the line for years, it was such an ignoble death for Keith. How could the best pilot in the universe die on impact after colliding with a drunk driver? It seemed like a sick joke. It didn’t seem real. It couldn’t be.  
A nurse approached with a kindly regretful smile and a stack of papers Shiro would need to read through and sign. Pidge was still gone probably caught up with Krolia, though she may have decided to call Lance and Hunk and check in with them too. The nurse had walked away, an occasional staff member walked by. Shiro couldn’t really grasp how much time was passing. He could feel the papers in his hand but not much else. He was starting to feel sick again, he leaned back, and stared into the fluorescent light above him. It didn’t flicker. He felt like he was floating.  
Pidge eventually came back, placing a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “You have to sign the papers, Shiro, then we can go.”  
Shiro had tried, he needed to leave here he was certain. But he couldn’t process the words on the papers, and he couldn’t lift the pen to sign them. He kept thinking he would walk out of the hospital and find Keith waiting in the car with a smile and a teasing comment about going home despite how hot it would be tonight. He couldn’t walk back into that house without Keith, the man was everywhere there. If Shiro didn’t sign the papers then he didn’t have to leave, he didn’t have to move past this moment.  
“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.  
Pidge sat down, putting her arm across his shoulders, “I know, I know. He was my best friend, Shiro! I can’t even believe it. But we have to start with these papers, and then tomorrow we can try to figure things out.”  
Shiro took a breath, feeling it catch in his lungs and release, he let out a humourless laugh, “I can’t even focus on the words long enough to read them.”  
Pidge pulled the papers from his hand and began scanning them, “I’ve got it, I’ll tell you where to sign.”  
When they finished Pidge lead him back outside to the car. It was dark now. Shiro could look up and see the stars, the pain in his chest shifted but still hurt. The drive back was quiet, Pidge had the radio playing quietly on some soft rock channel. Keith would sometimes leave the same channel on when he worked around the house. Shiro stared out the window watching the desert go by, then the ticky tacky houses for enlisted Garrison graduates and their families. They pulled up to the apartment complex, Pidge handed him the bag with the papers the hospital had given them so she could reach for her key and unlock the door. Inside nothing felt different, the food was still out, the radio still playing from the kitchen, Shiro was still waiting for Keith to come back with the beer so they could sit and eat together.  
“Matt’s driving to Phoenix now, Hunk and Lance will be here tomorrow,” Pidge rambled, Shiro could tell she was trying to distract herself, “Lance was able to get a direct from Havana, but Hunk has to connect in Honolulu and San Francisco so they probably won’t be back until pretty late tomorrow. Gives us time to clean up for them right? They’re just gonna trash their rooms anyway. And the poor bathroom! Lance is gonna spend five hours in there and get face mask goo all over the sink, and it’s gonna dry there, and who’s gonna scrub it off? Me!”  
Shiro mustered a quick smile for her antics. “You missed them.”  
She pulled her hands from their dramatic grasp in her hair. Her face softened, “Yeah okay, I missed them, who wouldn’t? Even Lance understands Altean tech better than most the people at my school. I’m dying, Shiro! I can’t only explain the same concept so many times.”  
“You’re preaching to the choir, Pidge, how many times do you think I had to show cadets the same manoeuvre before they stopped wiping out.” He wanted to laugh, he wanted to be distracted by their repartee, and he wanted to stop feeling like everything in his life would remind him that something was missing.  
“I wish Allura was coming.”  
“You got through to her,” Shiro questioned. Allura would want to know immediately but she had been tangled up in negotiations since the war had ended and barely had time to check in with any of them.  
“Yeah,” Pidge didn’t say anything else, she didn’t have to. Allura had been close to Keith barring a few bumps in the road. Besides Shiro, she had been Keith’s most frequent sparring partner, and a confidant when he needed to talk about the alien aspects of his life. Allura was just happy to have a friend who let her have a break from being a princess and the living goddess most of the universe considered her.  
“Is she gonna try to come at all,” Shiro asked.  
“She’ll be here by the end of next week, she’s aiming for Saturday.”  
They stayed quiet after that, Pidge eventually handed Shiro a blanket before she went back to her room. He sat on the couch, thoughts racing through his head too fast to evaluate. He must have fallen asleep at some point.  
For a brief moment when he cracked open his eyes he expected to turn over and find Keith sleeping beside him. The debate over whether to be sweet and wake Keith up with a kiss, or flick his forehead and laugh when he turned a disparaging look on Shiro floated through his mind. The moment was too brief. He was on Matt’s couch, the light didn’t look the same as it did when it filtered through the bedroom window in he and Keith’s little home. He hadn’t cried since he first got the news of the accident and he wished he could, he wished he could sob until it purged this awful tension from his chest. But he felt frozen. It felt a little more real today, but so abstract he couldn’t process it meaningfully.  
It. He wouldn’t name it unless he had to.  
His breathing lost its rhythm, coming in uneven gasps. He wasn’t supposed to lose the person he was going to spend the rest of his life with in such a meaningless way. Their lives hadn’t been normal since coming back to earth. After the invasion from Sendak’s forces had finally been stopped they were heroes on earth as much as in any other part of the universe. They had been brought back to the Garrison to consult as Earth joined in intergalactic political theatre. But they had time to themselves too. Time to consider what they wanted. Time with their friends, time with their families. Time to choose to be a family. Time to fix up what was left of Keith’s childhood home, make it liveable again. Make it theirs. Shiro had so much goddamn time now. He didn’t know what to do without Keith to fill his home and his free time.  
He went for a run around the Garrison, and it almost felt normal until Hedricks gave him a pitying look. He walked back to the apartment.  
Around noon Pidge forced them to eat lunch. Her mouth opening and closing as she decided how to begin a conversation with him.  
“I accessed the memory banks for the Black Lion,” she began. “Keith left pretty much everything to you.”  
Shiro had nothing to say to that so she continued.  
“I do get the Bowie records though,” she smiled sadly but seemed to hesitate, “but if you want them I’ll leave them.”  
“No, that was you guys’ thing,” Shiro reassured her.  
“Thanks.”  
It was quiet for a while after that. Both of them thinking about what they had lost.  
“Keith said he wanted Krolia to handle funeral arrangements,” Pidge began, “because she didn’t get any say in what happened with his dad.”  
Shiro closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, “That seems fair.”  
“We can talk to Krolia though, if you want some say,” Pidge assured.  
“No, no, Pidge I can’t deal with this,” He leaned over the table, letting his head fall into his hands. “If she can take care of it that’s fine.”  
They went back to eating silently again, slowly this time, neither really had an appetite.  
“I don’t want the records,” Pidge said, “I want my best friend back.”  
Shiro didn’t lift his head, he could feel his eyes watering, “Me too.”

Matt returned with Hunk and Lance around 10pm, their sombre and tearful hellos quickly followed by stories from their time back home. Neither man could ever stand to let a room sit quietly. The tiny apartment was full by midnight, Kolivan arriving last. Shiro felt a little warmer with their friends around him, but the dull ache that had settled behind his ribs refused to budge. For every laugh someone got out of him there was a moment's hesitation where he would look to his right expecting to share a smile with Keith, or to have Keith tilt his head into Shiro’s shoulder, muffling a laugh against his neck. Shiro would turn and his stomach would drop with a feeling similar to when he missed a step at the top of the stairs, or the power went out in the Black Lion and he could feel himself free falling into a planet’s gravity with nothing to break his fall. He knew the feeling showed on his face, no one mentioned it.  
A few hours later they began filtering out of the room, trying to work out sleeping arrangements as best they could in the space the younger Holts had. It would be easier to get everyone a place in the home he had with Keith, but he couldn’t go back yet, and it was a mess anyway. Keith never cleaned up after himself when he was in the middle of a project.  
Shiro stepped out onto the deck for a moment, contemplating whether or not to pick up smoking again. Anything to occupy the time and keep his mind busy.  
The door opened behind him and Krolia stepped out. She looked just like her son, wearing all her emotions right on her face, in her posture. She looked hurt and angry, but mostly tired. She stood away from him, not talking, just looking up at the sky. It was well past lights out at the Garrison, and the few lights still on didn’t interfere with their clear view of the stars. After years of travelling through the universe Shiro preferred the view from here. Little pockets of light surround each twinkling star, the Milky Way clearly visible.  
“You know I left to protect my family,” Krolia began, not looking away from the sky, “I wanted to stay with them, but I had to protect them from what was coming.” She paused for a moment. “Keith’s father died in a fire, I’m sure he told you, the one that destroyed our home. And now my son is dead. I couldn’t save either of them. All my efforts to stop the Empire did nothing to save them. And now I must plan my son’s funeral.”  
Shiro couldn’t speak, he didn’t know what to say.  
“I know you loved my son, and I know he loved you,” Krolia continued, “Had you set a date, for the wedding?”  
Shiro would rather be shot than discuss the plans for a life he would never live now. Confused by the question he answered her anyway, “We talked about it, we had the weekend picked out.”  
“The Galra believe it is bad luck for a fiancé to attend a funeral if the date for the wedding has been set. Perhaps it would be better to have a human funeral,” Krolia explained.  
Shiro didn’t have the energy for this particular conversation, the final proof that Keith was gone from him forever. “Whatever you want.”  
When Krolia spoke again her voice was thick, “I want my son alive and well, but if I can’t have that then I want him buried next to his father.”  
Shiro was still the only one listed as next of kin for Keith here on earth, the only one with power of attorney. He would have to visit the funeral home to make the necessary arrangements. The next words came easier to Shiro, he couldn’t tell if he was accepting this reality, or he was dissociating so completely that he could handle the situation. Likely the latter. “I’ll take care of it for you tomorrow. We’ll probably have to hold the funeral on Monday or Tuesday.”  
Krolia nodded understandingly, “I believe everyone who should be at the funeral is here. The sooner it happens to sooner we can heal.”  
She turned to go back inside, but paused with her hand on the door, “Shiro, please talk to me if you need anything.”  
She was back inside before he could answer.  
Shiro stayed out on the porch for a few hours, staring out at the stars. He wasn’t looking for answers, he didn’t even know what questions he would ask. Eventually resigned himself to restless sleep on the couch once more.  
Time felt like it moved in slow motion after that. The next day seemed to drag on forever from when he woke up to when he made the final arrangements with the funeral home. Time slipped even slower after that with nothing to do but wait for the funeral the next day. One second it would feel real, the next he would reach for his phone hoping to text Keith to join him at the Holts. Lance and Hunk tried to keep him occupied. But certain things had to be taken care of, and he couldn’t live in denial no matter the strain on his already frayed nerves.  
Pidge helped him pick up Keith’s personal effects from the hospital, she said she would wash the blood off his clothes before Shiro was allowed to go through them. He and Krolia dropped off a Blade of Marmora uniform at the funeral home, burying Keith in the Garrison’s dress greys felt dishonest. Shiro couldn’t prepare a speech, the others didn’t ask him to, that task fell to Pidge instead. He would have to go home at some point, they would have to go through Keith’s belongings and sort out the few things he wanted the other’s to have. He was trying to at least put that off until Allura showed up.  
It still didn’t really feel real. It still wasn’t tangible. It felt like Allura would show up and wave her hands with some Altean alchemy and conjure Keith back to him. It felt plausible, after all hadn’t he been brought back from the dead for Keith? But it wasn’t like that this time. There wasn’t a cosmic scale to balance. There was just a depressed divorcée with a bottle of wine, speeding down the highway looking for and end he wouldn’t find. And Keith was just man with his whole life ahead of him, with people waiting for him to come home, snuffed out instantly.  
The funeral was a tiny private affair, Shiro would be tasked with making an official announcement to the press on Earth next week, and Allura would subsequently inform the alliance. The universe would mourn the loss of a hero, but for the time being a few comrades would mourn the loss of a friend. Hedricks and Montgomery showed up to the funeral, professors who had always believed in Keith even when he was giving Iverson lip and earning the ire of every other cadet in his class. Ryu and and Dos Santos rolled in just as the service started, but Shiro thought Keith would have been pleased that his flight instructors showed. The entire Holt family was there too, Pidge immediately flanking Shiro’s right side, while Krolia stayed on his left. When the others had cleared away they stayed seated. The Paladins of Voltron and Krolia sat and stared. It felt real in this moment, everything Shiro saw was telling him Keith was gone. It didn’t make him feel better. The hook in his chest pulled free and was finally able to rip out desperate sobs. But there wasn’t any relief. He felt cold, like he was going numb around the edges. Pidge had her arms around him, she was crying too. He wanted to go home but he couldn’t face it, he wanted comfort but Keith was gone, and he hadn’t spoken to his family since his grandfather died, he didn’t even know if they survived the invasion. He was surrounded by his friends but he felt a creeping soul-crushing loneliness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made myself sad


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> allura's in town now

Allura arrived on Saturday, on a small hoverbike that pulled up quietly in front of the apartment complex when Shiro happened to be taking a smoke break. She quickly hopped off her bike, yanked off her helmet and turned to him. He flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette down to the pavement, tapping out the end against the railing, and replaced it back into the pack. No sense in wasting half.  
Allura walked up the steps the small balcony where he stood, rushing to pull him into a crushing embrace. “Oh, Shiro, I came as fast as I could.”  
Shiro kept his face tucked into her shoulder. She had been closer to Keith than Shiro, but they were all close in a way you can only be when you bring an end to a 10,000 year old military empire while sharing headspace with magical energy. Allura had always understood the weight on his shoulders, a weight mirrored on hers, she had treated him as an equal. Now more than ever he wanted that understanding. She gave him another squeeze before pulling back to look at him.  
“I haven’t got much with me, I’ll bring in my things and catch up with the others,” she cupped a hand to his cheek, “Then we’ll go see Keith.”  
She withdrew and headed back to her bike. He followed behind her slowly. “Let me help you with your bags.”  
She scoffed, “It’s only one, I think I’ll manage.”  
They smiled and then went to meet the others. The mood inside was surprisingly light, as it had been since the funeral. The others seemed happy to recall their memories of Keith, or to discuss current issues, in an attempt to regain some sense of normalcy. At times Shiro was grateful for it, felt himself falling back into some sort of pattern. Sometimes it felt stifling, and he found himself out on the porch with a cigarette. Allura greeted them all kindly but quickly found herself at Lance’s side. He animatedly regaled her with stories from his return to his family’s home, she smiled and soaked in the attention. Shiro watched the tension lift from her frame the longer she listened, worries about her work, the reason she was there, momentarily cleared from her mind. Shiro excused himself to finish the cigarette he’d started.  
Two cigarettes and one hour of quiet contemplation later Hunk came out to fetch him for lunch. “It’s not a masterpiece, but I made chili, no beans: Texas style. Keith’s favourite.”  
“Thank you, Hunk, I’ll be right in.”  
Hunk didn’t accept that. His hand came to rest on Shiro’s shoulder, drawing Shiro’s attention enough to turn to the other man.  
“Listen,” Hunk began, “This isn’t something you can just shoulder and get over in a week.”  
“I know-”  
“No,” Hunk cut in, “You need to take time off, you need to go home, and you need to let yourself mourn.”  
“We all miss him,” Shiro started.  
“Don’t give me that, of course we do! We all loved Keith,” Hunk conceded, “But come on, man, you guys have known each other for years. There’s a difference between losing a friend and losing a life partner. I’m not trying to undermine the rest us right now. I’m not a psychologist, but I think you need a little more help than most of us. Though Pidge could give you a run for your money in the loving Keith most contest.”  
Shiro breathed a laugh, “How could I compete with Pidge and Keith’s love for each other?”  
“You’re right, why are we even having this conversation, I’ll go talk to her instead,” Hunk rolled his eyes. His face remained light but he reiterated his point seriously, “Make sure you’re processing all of this, and come inside to eat with us. You can’t get better on an empty stomach.”  
Shiro followed him back into the apartment. Just past the door was the living room, a comfortable couch and a few plush chairs, all covered in blankets and pillows from the shuffled sleeping arrangements for everyone temporarily occupying the apartment. Past the door on the south wall was a small kitchen, only marginally better than the Garrison dorms offered. On the west wall was a large window with the decently sized dinner table in front of it. The table was meant for hosting a few friends at most. Currently elbows bumped as everyone tried to fit around it at once. Lance had pushed his chair back from the table, balancing his bowl in his lap and nodding along to whatever Allura speaking about. He watched Lance reach a finger into the salad dressing on her plate and promptly wipe it across her nose. Allura sat in shocked silence, eyes almost crossed staring at offending digit. Lance removed his hand, taking in her expression he immediately cracked up. He laughed so hard he clutched his stomach, Allura soon joined him and the table followed in varying degrees of amusement. Lance grabbed a paper napkin from the table, he cupped her chin gentle to wipe of the mess. She smiled and leaned in for a brief kiss, before immediately returning to what she’d been discussing earlier. Shiro gathered it was something to do with the finer details of a resolution against slavery for all allied planets.  
The episode was heartening, things between Allura and Lance were finally working out. Lance respected Allura enough to let her prioritise her work, Allura respected Lance enough to seek his council on matters. He and Hunk had both made sure to follow every motion developed by the growing parliament, and send their thoughts to Allura. This early on in the alliance it would be easier for the more developed planets to strong arm the smaller planets into unfair trade agreements or annexation, no one wanted to see the remnants of the empire inform the new age. It still felt bittersweet to Shiro. Like his friends’ lives could move forward, it seemed unfair that time kept going for everyone else when it felt like the clock had stopped for him.  
He took the last empty seat at the table, shoved between Pidge and Kolivan. What little appetite he had in his current emotional state had been squashed when he started smoking again. But he tried to get down some chili anyway, if for no other reason than Hunk’s constant glancing in his direction to check if he liked the food was feeding a growing pit of guilt in his stomach. As the meal began to wind down Shiro still felt as though he hadn’t cleared much from his plate.  
“You know, Shiro, you might be hungrier if you weren’t suffocating yourself on a pack a day,” Pidge said it casually but with enough bite that Allura turned.  
“Suffocating on a pack?” she questioned, “Is this some sort of human turn of phrase, I don’t understand?”  
“Shiro’s coping,” Pidge explained, “By smoking cigarettes.”  
“I still don’t quite understand,” Allura repeated.  
Shiro rolled his eyes, pulling today’s half-empty pack from his jacket pocket. He handed them to her as he explained, “We grow a plant here on earth, that we dry and roll up, then you set it on fire and breathe it in. We have a few different plants we do it with actually, this one is most common.”  
“Oh we had something similar on Altea,” Allura pulled one out of the box and gave it a sniff. Her eyes dimmed, “Quite similar actually, much to my mother’s disdain my father often indulged.”  
“I’m more of a cigar man myself, but hey if another alien invasion happens who knows? I could take up cigarettes,” Lance quipped. Pidge gave Lance a look that reminded him of his own mortality prompting him to find a subject change as quickly as possible. He quickly turned to Allura in an effort to avoid Pidge’s searing disapproval. “Oh remind me later, mom sent some coconut oil for you hair, the desert air isn’t good for your texture, it’ll get all dried out,” Lance mentioned with an off handed cool that Shiro privately felt had been practiced archive.  
“Oh how wonderful,” Allura hugged his neck and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, “We’ll have to come up with something to give her in return. We can go shopping when I get back from visiting Keith. Which reminds me I need to go get ready...”  
Allura got up and walked down the hall to the guest room she was sharing with Pidge. Lance turned to Shiro with an incredulous expression, “Did she just say “we”, as in both of us?”  
“You are dating right?”  
“I mean, I guess, I don’t know,” Lance scratched his head.  
Shiro raised an eyebrow, “You don’t know?”  
The younger man looked forlorn, “Well all the Paladins have work to do, you know? We have to finish helping Earth recover from being a Galra colony, we have to help integrate into the intergalactic alliance… And Allura is so busy, she’s basically taken charge of everything back on Olkarion and she’s trying to get the alliance to approve of a universal space hub and… We just haven’t had time to talk it over I guess.”  
“Is anyone gonna help me with these dishes?” Pidge yelled pointedly, “Anyone?”  
Lance and Shiro hurried to help clear the table while Kolivan and Krolia moved into the kitchen to help clean up.  
“You guys can make it work,” Shiro assured Lance, “Make sure you talk to her about it, but it’s obvious she wants to be with you. You just need to make sure to give yourselves time, you’ll be fine.”  
Lance gave him a small uncertain smile. “Thanks, man. I think we can make it work.”  
The two made a precarious march to the kitchen while juggling every dish that had been at the table. Kolivan met them by the sink and began taking dishes to wash with Krolia’s help.  
Lance wandered back to the main room calling out to Hunk, leaving Shiro alone with a rather stoic crew of dishwashers. He felt unhelpful in the kitchen but didn’t know where else he could be needed.  
“You can clear what is left on the plates into the compost bin, Shiro,” Kolivan suggested.  
Shiro let out a sigh of relief and immediately got to work. The dishes cleared quickly with all them working together, and soon Krolia and Pidge left to attend to other tasks leaving Shiro and Kolivan the clean the last of the pots.  
“You will be addressing Earth’s press tonight, yes?” Kolivan inquired.  
Shiro paused while scrubbing the caked on egg at the bottom of the pan in front of him. “Yeah we do the live broadcast tonight, no questions, just a statement.”  
Kolivan hummed. “Have you prepared your statement?”  
“I wrote out the facts: That Keith died, when it happened, where the Garrison memorial will be for everyone to pay respects. Though somehow it doesn’t feel right, I can’t put into words the loss we are all feeling.” Shiro resumed his scrubbing with more force. “I haven’t felt this short for words since before I was captured.”  
“I would be happy to help you prepare before you make your speech, Keith was like son to me, and I would have him honoured properly by his people and the universe he saved,” Kolivan shooed Shiro away from the pan he had still failed to clean properly, “Now go find Allura and take care of your mourning in private before you face the crowds tonight. I’ll be waiting when you get back.”  
\--  
It was just Shiro and Allura in the car speeding down the highway, it would take them about an hour to arrive at the gravesite. Allura spent most of the drive quietly informing him about the current state of the alliance, Shiro found it fragile at best from her description. She fiddled with the radio toggle to distract herself from the situation at hand, settling finally on older station.  
“Keith liked this song, I heard him singing it to himself while doing repairs on the Black Lion, is it very popular amongst humans?” she asked.  
Shiro listened for a moment, recognising the tune but not knowing the name of the song, “I don’t think so, Keith liked older music, this song’s gotta be about a hundred years old now.”  
“I don’t think he knew he was doing it, and he would always stop when someone pointed it out. I never asked him what he was singing when he worked.” Allura let out a breath to steady herself, “I guess I assumed he would mention the music at some point, or I would be here with all of you and recognise the song enough to ask him about it. But now I’m afraid I’ll forget.”  
Shiro choked on a small gasp, torn between letting Allura speak her mind and comforting her. The fear had been settling into the back of his mind as well. How much would he forget? What memories of Keith would his mind deem too painful and shroud away from conscious recollection? He could clearly picture Keith’s smile now, the way he had laughed when Shiro tried to help him fix the kitchen sink, how he rolled his eyes exasperated when the Garrison and the alliance insisted that they take press pictures. What would he lose first? The tentative date for their wedding, the song Keith had been humming while wiping down the counters only a week ago, the radio station Keith turned to as a back up when the main station had replayed the same songs too many times, how he looked in the sunrise on Shiro’s first day back from Kerberos? He couldn’t bear the thought of losing any of it.  
“I’m afraid I’ll wake up one day and I won’t recall the song he sang the last time he repaired the Black Lion, and then I’ll forget everything else about him too,” Allura sniffed.  
Shiro pulled the car into the lot at the cemetery. They steeled themselves for the moment to come, then climbed out, Shiro leading the way through the rows of headstones. Allura played with the petals of the roses she’d bought for the grave.  
“You never forgot Altea, or your family, you won’t lose Keith either,” Shiro tried to assure her.  
“That’s the thing, Altea feels like a concept, or a dream I can barely recall,” she didn’t make a move to wipe the tears that had begun to slip down her cheeks. “It was different… I won’t go back into cryosleep again. But I’m going to live at least one thousand more decaphoebs, and the little things slip away. I know I spoke with Coran three quintants ago but I couldn’t tell you anything he said, because I’ll speak to him again in a movement. But if he were gone I would feel so guilty for not paying more attention.” They came to stop in front of a grave. “The loss of my planet feels so distant, but this feels so close.”  
The Garrison wanted a more elaborate memorial but Shiro and Krolia knew Keith would have been horrified at anything more than a simple squared off grave marker. Even that went further than the cremation Keith had explicitly asked for. But Shiro had privately agreed with the Garrison brass, the people needed somewhere to pay their respects. All of the Paladins had respect from those they had saved across the universe, but Keith’s sword had dealt the final blow to Sendak, Keith was Earth’s hero. Once they went public with the announcement of his death there would be an uproar. For now the stone was marked by only a few relics the Blades had left, candles the Holts had lit, and a bouquet of violets Shiro had placed there a few days after the funeral. Allura knelt down and placed her flowers below Shiro’s. She brought a hand up to trace the letters engraved in stone.  
“What does it say?” Allura asked. Shiro had momentarily forgotten that English wasn’t among the many languages in which the princess was proficient.  
“Keith Shirogane, 23.10.2037-26.06.2060,” He paused, and his vision was blurring and it was hard to see the words, but he knew what it said. Allura allowed him time to collect himself, but she turned to take his hands in hers. “Beloved son, husband, hero.”  
The mood in the cemetery was sombre, not morbid. The lawn that had once been meticulously maintained looked rougher in the years after Galra occupation, it had grown abandoned and patchy. The trees were faring a little better, no more scraggly than anything else in the Arizona desert. The weather that day was pleasant and begging for a picnic, at the parks around town families would be heading out to spend time together. No one else was visiting graves that day. It seemed like only here in front of Keith’s grave that time had frozen. Like the flowers and candles they had placed there would always look the same. But time would slip away, Shiro knew, the flowers would wilt, the candles would burn and blacken.  
Allura stood, her head bowed away from Shiro’s, ever trying to maintain her royal facade. “Galra live even longer than Alteans, even if he was half human he would have lived at least as long as me. He told me he was afraid of what he might do if we lived longer than the rest of you,” Her voice came thick with tears, “He is so young.”  
Shiro nodded, “He was.”  
“I can’t understand it,” her voice was soft and quiet. “I can’t understand why it happened now.”  
“There isn’t a reason for people to die.”  
“It’s silly but he’s going to miss out on so many little things,” Allura looked up at him, baring startling raw emotion, “We had his favourite meal and he wasn’t here to enjoy it with us. He won’t fly the Red Lion again, or see the sun rise, or take silly pictures with us. Oh, and he’s going to miss my wedding too…”  
“You and Lance already planning to get married, Princess,” Shiro joked, trying to diffuse the mood.  
His efforts worked, Allura chuckled and dried her tears, “He’d have to summon the guts to ask me to come around more, so you mustn’t hold your breath.”  
“Let’s say our goodbyes, then get you back to the man in question.”  
Allura nodded and turned back to the stone. She touched her fingers against its surface again as though it could get her close enough to contact him, “It looks like you were the most human of us after all. I’ll miss you, dear friend. And I promise to keep an eye on Shiro for you, two even. Goodbye, Keith.”  
It finally felt real when Allura turned from the grave and began to walk back to the car. Shiro gave one parting glance to the headstone. “I love you, baby. I’m so sorry. I’ll be back soon I promise.”  
  
  
The next day Allura and Pidge managed to convince Shiro to drive back home and begin getting the house together. Allura wanted them all out of the public eye after the public announcement of Keith’s death. Shiro had managed to feel at peace, or maybe numb he couldn’t tell, as they walked through the rooms looking for anything Keith had listed as something he wanted given to his friends and family.  
Shiro stepped into the kitchen first, he knew it would be a disaster. The room felt like the unfulfilled promise of Keith’s homecoming. Time had stood still, dust had yet to collect on the tools strewn about the kitchen. Light streamed in the window above the sink catching on the cold water tap, still disconnected, laying on a pile of browning shop rags. The cabinets were all closed, at Keith insistence. “You never no what could crawl in there if you leave them open Shiro, if I get stung by a scorpion I’m blaming you.”  
Shiro wished that his grief followed a linear progression into acceptance, but he felt as though he was constantly bouncing back and forth between anger and denial, moments of acceptance were fleeting and brought no relief. He needed to get things in order but he would never be ready. He wanted to start but didn’t know where, it was overwhelming. He knew Keith was gone, he knew that he would have to finish the house repairs alone, if he finished them at all. He knew this, but he wanted time to process his new reality.  
Allura grabbed for his wrist, drawing him away, “Don’t dwell on that, we’ll finish it later when Hunk gets here. For now let’s go through this list, and then if you want we’ll go through Keith’s clothing.”  
Taking a deep breath, Shiro steeled himself and set his shoulders, “Thank you.”  
“Of course, Shiro, anything you need, we’re with you.” Allura smiled and lifted the datapad she was holding, “Shall we start with the records for Pidge?”  
“Already on it,” came a voice from upstairs.  
“Make yourself at home, Pidge,” Shiro called back.  
“Thanks I will,” she quipped.  
“Alright, next item then,” Allura began walking around, working with Shiro to locate all the items and collect them in the main room of the home. A modest collection of photos, books, and curios that all fit onto the coffee table.  
Hunk and Lance arrived with food for a late lunch, ready to help in anyway they could.  
“We visited the memorial today, all official like,” said Lance.  
“It was kinda sweet, really crowded too. Everyone leaving flowers and candles and stuff,” Hunk explained. “We should probably donate anything we can, Keith can’t use it, it’s what he would want.”  
Lance smirked, “He would hate all the attention.”  
“He would have probably hated all of it,” Shiro added. “The attention, the gifts, the publicity.”  
“He’s rolling in his grave right now,” Pidge laughed.  
The mood lightened tangibly, everyone feeling more at ease as they finished their meal and went back to work. Hunk went to the kitchen to finish the repairs Keith had started, Pidge trailing behind with an offer to help tidy up. Allura and Lance followed Shiro upstairs to his and Keith’s room. Between the three of them they could make quick work of Keith’s few personal possessions.  
The room was tidy but far from neat. The striped blanket Keith wanted because it reminded him of the desert sunsets lay askew across the end of the bed. A pile of questionably clean clothes sat in a chair under the window on the eastern wall. The closet was mostly full, dress uniforms neatly pressed and hung, some clothes folded, other’s strew in vaguely themed piles.  
Lance immediately attacked the closet, “How can you even tell what’s yours and what’s Keith’s?”  
“The bigger shirts are mine?”  
Lance rolled his eyes, pulling a small black shirt out of the pile, “Who’s is this? This wouldn’t even fit Keith!”  
“That’s mine, actually,” Shiro coughed.  
Lance balked, “Holy cheese, Shiro, is this the shirt Coran made you wear for the coalition performances? Why do you still own it?”  
“Um,” Shiro hesitated, the next words he spoke came out quickly and in Lance’s opinion with not nearly enough shame: “Keith liked it?”  
“Oh my God,” Lance gasped out and Shiro thought he might have seen his soul leave his body. “That’s actually the worst thing I ever heard you say, no, the worst thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life. I want to bleach my soul.”  
Allura for her part found the entire scene hilarious and was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.  
Lance spared a hopeless glance to the rest of the clothing in the closet, “What other horrors have you hidden in here? Why is Keith still tormenting me from beyond the grave?”  
Shiro shook his head, “Okay, okay, everyone calm down. Let’s hurry up and get this over with. There’s nothing weird left in there, promise.”  
“I don’t believe you,” Allura said as she stifled her remaining giggles.  
“Yeah, no way,” Lance agreed, “You’re just saying that to put me in a false sense of ease, I’m gonna drop my guard and find like a dog collar that says daddy or something.”  
“Quit projecting, Lance,” Shiro shot back.  
“You wound me.”  
“Alright, boys, enough, Shiro’s right let’s get this over with,” Allura finally stood, walked to the closet, and grabbed almost all the clothing in her arms. She carried it to the bed and let it fall unceremoniously into a disorganised heap. “Fold all of Shiro’s clothes and put them back, keep Keith’s on the bed we can go through them in a moment.”  
The process took longer than expected, most of Keith’s clothing ended up in a pile intended for donation to the ever growing number of refugees the earth had taken in. There was a smaller pile that Shiro couldn’t quite bring himself to part with: the custom Garrison uniforms for the Paladins, Keith’s old red and white jacket, a few shirts and a sweater Keith had worn to the brink of falling apart.  
“I don’t think Keith would approve, it’s just stuff,” Shiro said.  
“Nah, forget that. He had lots of little mementos, he would want you to have some too,” Lance assured him.  
“Thanks, Lance.”  
“Let’s regroup downstairs, the others should be finishing up,” Allura began pushing them to the door and back down the stairs.  
The other’s had gathered on the sofas in the main room, they stood up as Lance, Shiro, and Allura walked in.  
“All right, man, I’ve got to head back home tonight,” Hunk said as he walked over grabbing Shiro into the warmest hug he’d had all week, “But call me if you need anything, I’ll be back in a few months to help out as an instructor at the Garrison. If you haven’t finished any projects around the house let me know!”  
“Me too,” Lance said, “The leaving and the helping thing.”  
“Thanks, guys, I really appreciate it,” Shiro smiled.  
“Yeah well, you better appreciate it by actually asking for help if you need it,” Pidge threatened seriously.  
“Cross my heart,” Shiro motioned.  
The other’s filtered out with slow steps and lingering goodbyes, leaving just Pidge behind at the threshold.  
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay for a while?” Pidge asked.  
“It’s okay, today was a lot, I need some time to process, alone,” Shiro gave her a tight hug before letter her go, “I’ll see you and Allura tomorrow, okay?”  
“You better take care of yourself until then, Shirogane!”  
Shiro huffed, “It’s less than twelve hours at this point!”  
“Okay then, buh-bye, see you in less than twelve hours,” Pidge yelled as she bade her way back to her hover bike.  
Alone in the house Shiro wandered from room to room aimlessly, he would need to start dinner soon. He would. But for the moment he found himself sitting on the end of the bed, fingers worrying the worn out seems of Keith’s old jacket. It was like a living memory, the first thing he’s seen Keith wearing after he’d crashed back to Earth, a familiar sight throughout the early days of Voltron’s intergalactic war.  
The day had been exhausting. Shiro felt like he was choosing which memories to keep and which to throw away. The shirt Keith had worn on their last hike together was new enough someone else would get a lot of use out of it, but Shiro felt like he was like he was losing the only thing keeping the memory from fading. He and Keith didn’t have that many pictures together, or many pictures in general. He couldn’t help but wonder what would fade first. The little things like Keith’s look of concentration as he browsed the snack aisle at the kwik-mart, even though he would always pick the same snack. Or maybe it would be the bigger but less frequent things like how Keith would tease Shiro when he got moody about keeping up with dishes or folding laundry. The big things he hoped he could keep, but Shiro didn’t trust his memory anymore, even some of those might fade.  
He folded the jacket and put it under Keith’s pillow.  
He walked downstairs and made dinner like he should. Ate a little like he should. Even had a glass of water.  
He walked back upstairs.  
He showered like he should. Threw the days clothes in the hamper like he should. Even changed into a pair of sweats before crawling into bed.  
But with the lights out the house was quiet and empty. He could hear a pin drop in the garage but he couldn’t hear the steady rhythm of Keith breathing, or all the frustrated huffs Keith would let out when he tried to find a comfortable position to lie in. Desert nights were cold, even in the late summer as it was. Shiro felt like the chill had crept into the room and settled in his bones. It was a deep lonely ache. Maybe he should have had Pidge stay the night, if only to keep the ghosts away.  
Shiro slipped his hand under Keith’s pillow and grabbed for the jacket. In the absence of a warm body a jacket was a pale imitation, still he found some comfort in running his thumb along the poorly patched and sewn seam holding the right cuff into place. The jacket had been old when Keith purchased it in a thrift store near the Garrison. In almost seven years of ownership Keith have managed to tear it to shreds repeatedly. But Shiro would always find him trying to sew the tears to the best of his ability. Once you’ve owned something that long it becomes too wrapped up in memories to throw away.  
It was real now. The corners dusted. The old clothes packed. Little touches of Keith’s presence fading from the home. Already, Shiro knew, the pain would fade away. He would cry every night until finally the wound on his heart started to scar over, a little tougher this time. He would become accustomed to existing alone. He would still hurt, and there would be times when a memory felt so close his vision would start swimming. But he would keep going. He had more to finish, for Keith, for the others, for himself.  
It helped Shiro feel a little less alone holding onto this physical reminder of everything Keith was. Clutching at the fabric he finally felt the last of the day’s tension release. Tension that had been mounting since the moment the hospital called spilled out in bitter tears across the worn cracked leather at the collar of the jacket. Shiro pressed his face into the lining and at last let himself feel all of the hurt and anger that came with finding himself suddenly alone, losing his entire future in the man he loved.  
  
  
The next day Krolia arrived at Shiro’s home before Pidge or Allura. She let herself in and found Shiro quietly staring out at the desert from the windows in the breakfast nook off the kitchen.  
“Is the landscape offering you any answers to your questions,” Krolia asked.  
Shiro gave a start and turned to her, “No, but Keith loved this view. So I...”  
Krolia let the unfinished sentence hang in the air a moment, an offering to let Shiro share anything he needed. When the silence lingered she spoke. “So did his father.”  
Shiro stood up, automatically heading to the stove to fill another mug with espresso for Krolia. He turned back to the nook, handing her the mug of coffee before returning to his seat, “Was Keith more like him or you?”  
Krolia smiled, “Much more like his father I think. Anything Galra he got from me, but I think his father raised him well for the time he could, and that made my son the man he was.”  
“Krolia, I’m sorry—”  
“I didn’t come here for either of us to regret his loss,” she smiled slightly to him, “I just want to know how you plan to move forward.”  
“I have a few more things I need to collect form our quarters on the Atlas, I’ll keep them here. I need to finish all the repairing and refitting Keith started around the house. Then I guess I could go back to work,” Shiro speculated, “Iverson said there would be an opening to captain the Atlas’s next mission, or I could take over for the flight instructor who had to take family leave…”  
“I’m glad you have plans.”  
Shiro let out a relieved sigh, “It felt a little easier today, not having him around. I almost feel guilty.”  
“I’ve read the Blades file on you. I know you deserve some peace. My son would be glad to see you living, Shiro, remember him everyday if you want, but don’t let yourself feel guilty for living.” Krolia's words fell in the same harsh tones as Keith’s, like everything she said was a given truth, indisputable. Shiro felt himself process what she said with sincerity.  
“I have a lot of options now, I just need some time,” Shiro promised.  
“Of course.”  
They sat together in the quiet for a while, finishing their coffees and watching the sun rise over the mesas.  
Shiro cleared their mugs, leaving in the sink for later. He would still have to get used to doing all the dishes by himself.  
“There are a few things upstairs that you might want,” Shiro said, leading the way. Krolia followed him up to the office area he had shared with Keith, the centre of their collected curios from their galactic and domestic adventures. On Keith’s desk sat several photos of his father, and a recovered album with photos of the tiny Kogane family before Krolia had been forced to leave.  
Tears gathered in Krolia’s eyes but she smiled and she ran a finger over the image of her husband and son. “I’m so angry that I couldn’t spend more time with them, but I guess I’m happy we had any time together at all.”  
Shiro could relate to that sentiment. “Oh there’s one more thing, I’ll be right back.”  
Shiro left the study and headed to the spare room Keith had been in the midst of remodelling. The floor was still covered in plastic, the paint cans sealed, the brushes clean and unused. Shiro noted that he would need to check all the tarps again before he finished this project, some of the tape had slipped and left the wall of bookshelves partially uncovered. It made it easier for today though, he peeled back the plastic sheet a bit more to reach for what he wanted. Keith’s blade, meticulously cleaned and shined as Keith had always kept it. Shiro grabbed it from where it sat mounted for display and turned to find Krolia wandering in behind him.  
She paid little attention to Shiro or the blade, looking around in curiosity, “What were you doing with this room?”  
Shiro steeled himself before speaking, “We had thought maybe, not immediately, but somewhere down the road, we could adopt one of the kids displaced by the invasion. Or maybe one of the refugee aliens from the settlements around the Garrison. Later when we had a better handle on things…”  
“You could still,” Krolia spoke softly, “There are many Galra children who need homes now that the war effort has been halted.”  
“Now isn’t really the best time,” he started.  
“No of course not, but later, when you have a handle on things,” she quoted, “I would be happy to offer any assistance you need, Shiro.”  
“I’ll think about it,” Shiro offered, “Someday maybe.”  
Krolia gave Shiro a disparagingly disbelieving look that could have rivalled Keith for sass. A knock on the door downstairs saved Shiro from further debate on the subject, he fled the room to greet Pidge and Allura.  
The four spent the day finishing up a few tasks around the house. The cleaning was quickly finished or set aside in favour of spending time together in the living room. Allura’s brief vacation had been “far too long”, she didn’t want to miss any of the forming policies to be debated in the coming movements. Lance and Hunk had both provided her ample notes on many of the propositions made by opposing senators, she would now have the dubious task of swaying as many as possible to her side. Krolia would return to her duties as a Blade and member of the Galra representative party in the senate, and hopefully help Allura as best she could. Pidge promised to stick around for a few more days, but even an universal hero and genius had to abide by the rules of attendance at some point if she wanted to graduate.  
After dinner had long since been finished, dishes cleaned and placed back in their cabinets, the conversations began to peter out. Pidge was the first to leave, reminding Shiro to visit her and Matt in the Garrison labs the next day. Allura followed soon after, promising to visit soon. Krolia was the last to go, lingering quietly.  
“I’ll visit again soon, remember what I said,” she said seriously.  
“I’ll think about it, Krolia,” Shiro assured her, “but only after I get back to work and finish the house.”  
“If that means you plan to work again then I’m pleased,” Krolia laughed, “Don’t let me catching you moping next time I visit, Shiro.”  
“Yes ma’am,” Shiro stood at attention and saluted, drawing a genuine laugh from Krolia.  
“Goodbye,” she waved to him, walking out into the desert night.  
Shiro sat on the porch watching her drive away. Impulsively he reached for the carton of cigarettes and made to take one out. He stopped himself as he went to light it, placing it in the ashtray, unlit. He leaned against the bannister on the lanai and looked up at the stars. Each of them millions of miles apart from each other but managing to look so cluttered from his earthly viewpoint. He supposed for now he and Keith were like stars, far apart but not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I mostly wrote this for myself. Please enjoy my self-indulgent catharsis writing. Thank you to my editor @aubadechild for my life~ <3

**Author's Note:**

> come complain about this fic to me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/galtean_keith) or [tumblr](http://polluxiankeith.tumblr.com)


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